


We've Never Met, But Can We Have a Coffee or Something?

by cloudsarefluffy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Apologies, Awesome Erica, Based on a Tumblr Post, College Student Stiles, Derek Uses His Words, Drinking & Talking, Flirting, Fluff, Gift Fic, Hurt Derek Hale, I Tried, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Not Beta Read, POV Stiles, bc I'm unoriginal, essentially, sorry if that's something you wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsarefluffy/pseuds/cloudsarefluffy
Summary: Based off of fanficy-prompts’ story idea here (because I’m unoriginal with a writer’s block and I’m sorry): I go to a coffee shop every day after class and you’re always there in the back corner sitting alone and you always order the same thing, I tried it and it’s delicious and you look so sadHope you like it, slashupmylife!---Today, instead of his regular, Erica gives him a soft smile alongside his surprise drink. Stiles returns the gesture as he grabs the cup, turning afterwards to see the man sulking in the corner as usual. With a deep breath, Stiles steels himself, and walks over to the guy’s table.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I got slashupmylife, who wanted “any” for their fic. Well, I hope cutesy is your thing, because I didn’t want to write something on the off-chance you wouldn’t like it, and fluff is as safe bet as any.
> 
> Title is from a certain song performed by "in love with a ghost" which you can listen to here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XZJ5mD6nSU
> 
> Enjoy, and happy holidays!~

Stiles loves coffee, but if there’s anything that he likes more, it’s the coffee shops.

There’s just something about them. The smell of ground coffee beans in the air, the sound of the espresso machines, the ambiance of everyone sipping from their cups of various caffeinated concoctions as they tap along on their phones or computers.

It’s the reason Stiles looks forward to heading to his favorite little shop after every English class, but also, for something else other than aesthetic or even the coffee. Stiles has been going to this certain place for weeks now, and that much visitation hasn’t let something slip by his nose. 

You see, there’s this man. He’s a little older than Stiles, and he seems a lot grumpier. His mood is darker than his five o’clock shadow as he sips on his drink, his brows pinched together as he stares at the floor. Not once has Stiles ever seen the man busy himself with something— a book, the paper, anything. He just sits and broods.

And Stiles feels awful. Feels awful because he comes in every time all chipper because he’s passing his classes, or the last episode of whatever show he’s keeping tabs on aired, and in comparison it makes him feel like a dick, because this guy obviously has something going on. 

Someone never should look that deeply upset while in a coffee shop, in Stiles’ opinion.

So he’s going to change that today when he visits the coffee shop.

Erica, the barista, knows him well by this point, and she’s aware of Stiles’ plan. Hell, she was on board with whatever Stiles was going to do as soon as he opened with, “You know that guy who always sits in the corner and glares?”

Today, instead of his regular, Erica gives him a soft smile alongside his surprise drink. Stiles returns the gesture as he grabs the cup, turning afterwards to see the man sulking in the corner as usual. 

With a deep breath, Stiles steels himself, and walks over to the guy’s table.

“Hey,” is what Stiles opens with, taking the guy for surprise as Stiles sits down directly across from him, “I just want to go ahead and say my bit, and then I’d like to hear yours, if that’s okay. So, um. My name’s Stiles. I go to BHU, and about—“ he checks his phone, “—twenty-seven minutes ago I got out of my English class, and that class always makes me wanna curl up with a nice warm cup of coffee to enjoy fine literature with. But what it comes down to is, I’m not sure if you noticed, it’s just that I come in here every time I get out of my English class, and the reason I’m sitting here is because I noticed you’re always here too.”

Stiles coughs then, opting to curl his fingers awkwardly around his warm cup rather than look at what is surely a horrified or frazzled expression. Most likely both. Maybe he’s going to have a restraining order filed against him after this… And of course, that’s when he starts babbling.

“But I think the thing I noticed the most is that you always— you always look so _sad._ Or angry. You just glare at the floor and never occupy yourself, and I— I thought,” Stiles swallows uneasily, “I thought today could be different.”

And, with a quiet touch of surprise, the man asks softly, “Different?”

Stiles chances to look at the man then, and his breath nearly catches in his throat at the genuine curiosity he sees him expressing, “Yeah. I thought I’d sit with you and, well, I asked Erica to give me your usual instead of mine.”

The guy then turns towards Stiles in his seat, eyes focused entirely on him, “You did?”

“Mhm,” Stiles hums, and then he picks the cup up, “Brooding or not, it must’ve been good for you to have come here so often.”

The man smiles softly, and the way it looks on him makes Stiles’ heart thump harshly against his ribs, “Go ahead then, try it.”

And Stiles does. He brings the cup up to his lip, gingerly sipping at first, and then groaning and taking a large swig. The man raises an eyebrow at him, and his small smile grows into a smirk as Stiles forces himself to put the cup back down.

“Whoa,” Stiles grins back, “That’s— that’s _delicious!_ Where in the world did you get the idea to create that?”

“I’ve been coming here often,” the guy jokes, “and, after today, I guess I’m glad I have.”

That makes Stiles blush, “Well, um, yeah— me too, dude,” and Stiles clears his throat, his fingers drumming alongside the side of the cup, “So, what’s your name?”

“Derek. Yours?”

“Stiles.”

“Hm, Stiles… That’s unusual.”

“Better than my actual name, I promise you.”

Derek snorts at that, “Foreign, I’m supposing?”

“Yeah, polish. Gotta thank granddad for that one,” Stiles humors, “My dad had to get the regular names, but no— _I_ had to carry on our legacy. He insisted.”

“My mother named me after my great grandparent, so I know how it feels.”

Stiles huffs lightly in disbelief, “Oh yeah, because Derek—“

“Derek’s not the one I’m talking about. It’s my middle name, and I got it from my great grandmother.”

Stiles winces, “Do I even want to know?”

“Let’s just say there’s a reason why people only know me as Derek.”

Stiles nods, laughing softly and diverting his gaze from Derek’s before he does something stupid, “Huh. Name trouble. I never would’ve guessed we would have that in common.”

“Neither would I if you never took the chance to talk to me,” he admits.

And Stiles looks up, tilting his head at Derek. Derek isn’t looking at him though, rather, he’s looking at his own lap. Stiles can’t see exactly where his hands are after the table blocks the view of Derek’s arms, but he’s got a good hunch that Derek is twiddling his fingers nervously, if the bouncing in his leg is anything to go by.

“I don’t mean to look angry or sad when I’m sitting here, but, I guess from the fact that you did this, I look that way anyway. It’s just that my sister is in the hospital down the road, has been there for a few weeks, and I’ve found that the coffee tastes better here than what they offer in the waiting rooms. I come down here to get some air and I think. Going by how you said I always look angry and sad, I guess it’s because my darker thoughts get the better of me.”

Stiles frowns softly at that, “Oh… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Nothing you did.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s wrong?”

Derek shakes his head then, “She has pneumonia right now, and a rather bad case of it. Her lungs have always been pretty vulnerable and weak from a house fire when we were much younger, just kids, so when she gets sick with things like this, it’s always just a hold on and hope type scenario.”

“I lost my mother when I was seven,” Stiles murmurs, “She had frontal temporal dementia. Dying was a process for her, so I understand what you mean.”

Derek hums softly, “I’m sorry about your mother.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Stiles repeats quietly, “Nothing you did.”

Derek’s eyes narrow tenderly as he looks at Stiles, and then, gently, he chuckles, “To think, this started over coffee.”

Stiles squints, “This?”

“Us talking and finding out we have a lot in common,” Derek murmurs, “I just thought you were some college kid who worried too much about student loan debt rather than anything else.”

“While I do worry about that, I still care. I— I wanted to try and see if I could get you to smile. Well, kind of looking back on it now, I guess I was pretty arrogant but—“

Before Stiles can finish, Derek’s thumb swipes over his top lip, making him stop talking quiet efficiently. He just stares as Derek licks the pad of it, his eyes alight with something that makes Stiles’ stomach feel as though his coffee was made of butterflies.

“Wha—“

“You had some foam above your lip. Thought I’d take care of it,” Derek murmurs with a hint of heat, but he also smiles kindly, “So, since you got to ask me all of the questions, do you think it’d be out of place if I asked for your number?”

“No!” Stiles exclaims without pause, and then he grins sheepishly as he passes his phone to Derek, “That— that would be nice, actually…”

“Okay, good,” Derek smiles, taking the phone and typing his number into it, “because I would really, _really_ like to keep talking to you apart from today.”

“Y-Yeah. Me too.”

After a small moment, Derek passes his phone back, “There.”

“Well, I never imagined this ending with me getting your number,” Stiles jokes.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Derek grins, and when Stiles is about to ask what he means by that, he grabs Stiles’ coffee and rips apart the cardboard sleeve to reveal a number written on the inside of it, “because you’re not the only one who’s been noticing things.”

Stiles is gaping then, absolutely dumbfounded as Derek winks and stands up, getting his jacket wrapped around himself.

“Enjoy the coffee, Stiles.”

And then he’s gone.

Stiles blinks at the wall, completely lost. He ends up looking over his shoulder to see Erica grinning ear to ear like the complete traitor she is. 

But, as Stiles looks down at the re-purposed sleeve, his heart swelling some with excitement at what lay ahead, he guesses he could let it go just this once.

And yes, he does end up enjoying the coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> ##### Prompt me here at:
> 
> http://sunshinexlollipops.tumblr.com/promptask
> 
> ##### This was written to:
> 
> 1\. April Showers - ProleteR  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18JQUYgpOlw
> 
> 2\. Save Yourself - Kaleo  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aS9ovTI2mU


End file.
